


all the Stars and Moons and even I

by AegwynnMagna



Category: Warcraft (2016), Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst, Dubious Consent, M/M, Werewolves, fluff is coming but first, hormones made them do it but they do talk about it first, werewolf curse as a euphemism for homosexuality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:20:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28438269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AegwynnMagna/pseuds/AegwynnMagna
Summary: Secret Santa 2020. Prompt : "ABO and domestic fluff."Werewolves AU. Lothar is a monster hunter who has to hide the fact he is a werewolf. Khadgar is a recently turned wolf going through his first rut, trying to survive in a hostile world. Their meeting is a roll of dice: will they survive prejudice, adversity, and their own nature?Chapter 4:"This is only going to get worse," he told Khadgar. "And soon I won't be able to hold back anymore."Khadgar's eyes widened. Anduin hoped that his desperation, quickly growing, wouldn't scare the other man."This is our last chance at having a choice," Anduin stated.
Relationships: Khadgar & Anduin Lothar, Khadgar/Anduin Lothar
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13
Collections: Liontrust 2020 Secret Santa





	1. waking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Valisandre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valisandre/gifts).



> As organizer of this challenge, I cheated a bit bc I knew who I was writing this for all along. So this is for my good friend Valisandre, who requested ABO and domestic fluff for her Secret Santa prompt. I was a bit out of my depth as ABO isn't something I usually go for, but I thought it was interesting. I chose to make them werewolves because I was more comfortable with the prompt with the supernatural factor added. And then it turned into a sort of SPN/Witcher/TW AU... I don't know. It took on a life of its own and I let it run its course. I hope you'll like this story, Val and that it's up to your expectations. Happy new year ♥

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Posting this first chapter even though I am not done with the fic as a whole because tonight is the full moon and I thought that was cool)

Anduin's back hit something hard and spiky - a tree trunk, his mind helpfully provided. He should be coming up with ways to survive the giant, clearly frenzied, and threatening wolf that was getting inexorably closer to him. He knew that the wolf was only scared and that Anduin probably wasn't helping. The bright lights, the loud shouts, the unmistakeable smell of gunpowder - it would drive anyone crazy. Anduin wasn't unaware of this - he just wished he could have communicated his good intentions better than yelping:

"I don't want to hurt you!"

The wolf, of course, couldn't have cared less. It couldn't understand him, most probably. It kept advancing until its snuff was pressed against Anduin's throat. His blood rushed through his veins, enticing. Anduin's breath caught in his throat. He could feel the wolf's fur tickling his face. His vision blackened momentarily. He didn't know what to do anymore: this is when he would die, killed by a wolf. How ironic.

He adressed a silent thought to his sister, telling her goodbye, asking her to forgive him for his foolishness. She had warned him - it hadn't been the first time, either. But Anduin had wanted to play the hero.

When he heard that a werewolf had been freely roaming the forest at night, he knew he had to do something. If the other hunters got to them before him, they would shoot on sight, then this werewolf did not stand a chance. He needed to warn them so they could run before it was too late. He dreaded to think about what he would do if this wolf was too far gone to be able to listen to reason.

"Please," he whined.

The wolf sniffed loudly. It growled, dangerously close to Anduin's neck and his pulsating artery. Then, suddenly, it stopped.

Anduin held his breath. The wolf had stilled, wet snuff pressed against his skin. Anduin didn't dare move even a finger.

The wolf licked him. Anduin gasped. The rugged tongue lapped at his entire neck at once, raising the hair on his nape and arms. A shudder travelled through him.

Oh.

_Oh no._

The werewolf wasn't only afraid, driven by his instincts awoken by the clear moonlight. It was going through a rut. And the wolf in him had recognized Anduin for what he was: a peer. A companion. A mate.

Blood rushed through Anduin, driven not by fear but by something even more primal. Only the suppressant he had taken this morning and his own self control prevented him from turning right this instant. His entire nature rebelled against his mind but he kept himself in check. The wolf was still licking him, slobbering all over his face and chest like an overzealous dog. For a second, Anduin was scared it would try to take him but it soon became clear the wolf had no further intention but to try to drown him in spit.

"Alright," he grunted, pushing the beast away. "Enough."

He was rewarded for his effort with a tongue slipping in his mouth. He spluttered and coughed even as a laugh bubbled up his throat.

The sound of a branch cracking had them both fall completely still. Silence surrounded them, stretched tight. A low rumble started resounding through the wolf's chest and Anduin grabbed its fur, trying to calm it down.

The gunshot was insanely loud in the night. The wolf screamed - a much more human scream than he would have expected. The hunter - Varis, Anduin recognized him just a second later - aimed again as the wolf swivelled around and bared his teeth at him.

"No!" Anduin shouted, unable to know whether he was warning the werewolf or Varis.

The wolf was quicker: it jumped on Varis, claws digging into the hunter's leathers with a sickening tearing sound and bit him. Varis cried out, the sound dying in a gurgle as his throat was torn apart. Anduin's heart sank in his stomach and he turned to vomit in a bush.

Shouts were heard echoing through the forest as the hunters congregated nearer. The swipes of flashlights drowned the place in light. The wolf jumped away from its victim and cowered. Anduin managed to get a grip on himself, enough to push the wolf and shout:

"Go! Go away, now!"

It didn't matter if the wolf couldn't understand him. It knew enough about the threat the hunters posed to turn and run as fast he could. Anduin watched it get away, limping painfully on his hind leg.

Anduin fell to his knees on the ground near Varis. His instincts kicked in when he saw the extent of the damage. He removed his jacket and pressed the fabric against the gushing neck wound. The hunters swarmed the surroundings, orders being shouted to carry Varis back to the village, others to scour the forest to find the werewolf.

"It's wounded," Anduin heard himself say.

"It'll make this easier," someone grunted.

Anduin closed his eyes, feeling resignation fill him. Somebody helped him up but he insisted on walking alone. As soon as they neared the village, Taria ran to him, silently supporting him and guiding him to their house.

She sat him down at the kitchen table and busied herself with boiling water and gathering towels. He washed his face and dried it, grimacing at the amount of spit there was on his clothes. He would need to scrub them down. Blood stained his hands. Taria was only finishing cleaning it off when three hunters entered the room: they were successful, ruthless hunters. A shiver went through Anduin. He had no respect for their kind and yet had to pretend he did.

"Lothar," the self-appointed chief, Uther, greeted him.

Anduin only nodded in acknowledgement.

"Will Varis make it?" Taria asked.

Uther blinked, seemingly surprised to find Taria here - or perhaps to hear her speak. He seemed to hesitate answering her. It further darkened Anduin's mood. It was Greymane who answered:

"Maybe."

Anduin tightened his jaw. Worry bloomed anew in his gut. He and Varis had been close friends. Ever since he had been turned into a werewolf, years ago, he had retreated into himself in order to keep his identity a secret. His former friends and comrades had blamed it on the grief of having lost both his wife and his son in the attack. Anduin didn't deny it.

"What do you want?" he asked gruffly.

"We want to know what happened," Uther told him. "In detail."

"We were attacked."

"No," Uther interjected. "Varis was attacked. You are fine. Tell me how that has come to be."

Anduin sighed. "I don't know."

"You were alone with the beast before," Uther stated rather than asked.

"Yes," he answered, brow furrowing in confusion.

"And it didn't attack you," Uther continued.

"No. It threatened me, I was at a disadvantage, but… it didn't attack me," he said quietly as he realized how suspicious that made him.

"Why was Varis attacked if the beast was so harmless?" Greymane sneered.

This felt more like a questionning than a simple account of the events.

Anduin frowned. "Varis shot the wolf. It was threatened and attacked."

"And why didn't you shoot?"

"I," Anduin stuttered.

"Were you too scared? Paralysed by fear so you couldn't even help your friend?"

"Genn," Uther stopped him.

They remained silent after this. Anduin could not think of anything to say so he stayed silent, staring stubbornly at the table. Proudmoore, who hadn't said a word, was the only one who didn't look at him as if he was lying to them. He even looked sympathetic. Yet he didn't speak up on his behalf.

"Haven't you got anything to say?" Uther asked, defeatedly. "Very well," he said once it became clear Anduin wouldn't answer.

The three men left. Anduin watched them walk down the road from his threshold. They didn't speak until they were well out of earshot, even from him. 

_So this is how it starts_ , Anduin thought bitterly. He had learned, the hard way, that werewolves were not responsible for their actions. He believed, more than anything, that these cursed souls could be saved like his had been, by the kindness his sister had shown him and her perseverance. Wolfsbane wasn't a cure. But if someone really tried, maybe the suppressant could help to develop an actual remedy. He had to believe in this, otherwise he would be left with no choice but to end his own life.

But he knew that the other villagers would never see it the way he did. If they were to find out that he was a werewolf, he would be put to death. For a decade he had successfully hidden his lycanthropy. Aware of the risks, he had tried to save every single werewolf that came near their village and he had even succeeded, sometimes. Most often he would have to grieve alone the death of yet another of his kind. There was only ever so much he could do without putting himself in danger. Even if his colleagues didn't find out the whole truth, just knowing that he was sympathetic to werewolves, that he was _helping_ them instead of hunting them like he was supposed to, he would be slaughtered. He wasn't sure they would even give him a trial.

The die was cast. The suspicions had planted themselves in the chiefs of the pack: their very own _alpha_ hunters. In this small a village, it didn't take much more than a hunch for accusations to be thrown. Anduin knew his time had come. It was just a matter of time before someone put two and two together and realized that he had been acting weird for the past decade already.

But Anduin could not surrender now. This werewolf in the forest, an _alpha_ , so rare, so terrified, needed his help. If he was already suspected, then Anduin saw no reason not to help. What had to happen, had happened. He didn't have any more to lose. He made the decision to help the werewolf tomorrow, whatever the cost. He would see to it that he was safe, even if he should lose his own life. He swore it.

Later that day, after all the hunters had slept, they found themselves in the pub. Anduin sat at the bar alone. It wasn't unusual for him and Varis's injury further dampened everyone's mood so that no one came to bother him. He stared at the bottom of his drink, twirling it around the glass rather than drinking.

Karos, Varis's partner, walked in the pub. He looked exhausted, having stayed at Varis's side all day. His peers came to offer their support, clapping him on the shoulder and back. Andin didn't move. He was unsure whether his words would be welcome. Karos eventually noticed him at the bar: he stilled when their eyes met. Anduin wanted him to come to him, even if it was to blame him for Varis's wounds. But he didn't. He averted his gaze and went to sit at a table with some mates.

Anduin sighed and turned his attention back to his drink. His ears tingled as he overheard:

"These beasts should all be exterminated."

He tensed. It was standard talk, but tonight it hit even harder.

"They will be. That's why we're here. To hunt them down and put a bullet through their thick skull, right between the eyes. _Pow_."

The remark was met with a roar of laughter. Bitter, Anduin took a large sip from his whiskey.

"Don't worry," he heard next, "we'll make the monster pay for what it did to Varis. We'll make it suffer before it dies, make sure it stares death right in the face."

"Don't be an idiot," Karos answered, sounding even more tired than he looked. "Just put it down. Prevent it from hurting anybody else."

"Hey, Karos! Will you want its pelt to make it into a coat?"

More laughter followed. Anduin stared at the bottom of his drink, watching the way the light refracted in the alcohol. Maybe he should just leave and go home. He didn't know why he had even come here in the first place. He was in no mood to drink.

He was about to get up when the door opened. A rush of cold wind blew into the bar, grabbing everyone's attention. The door closed with a bang that echoed in the sudden silence. Anduin gasped.

He turned to take a look at the man who had just entered: young, very much so, brown hair, a moustache… Not very impressive. It was hard to believe this man could be an alpha werewolf. And yet… He knew that smell. A thrill went through his body. The other men in the room were totally unaware of the presence this newcomer possessed. Alone he was affected by the pull that the alpha, without even meaning to, had on him. To his dismay, it awoke something deeply buried in him. He realized that he hadn't had wolfsbane today. It wouldn't normally be a problem, except that tonight was the full moon and this was an alpha.

Their eyes locked. Anduin's breath caught. But the man's gaze continued its turn of the room without flinching. It left Anduin breathless and confused.

Mockly oblivious to the gazes strained on him, the newcomer made his way across the room. Anduin immediately noticed the slight limp where he had gotten shot last night. He sat at the other corner of the bar. Anduin quickly refocused his gaze on his drink but observed the man from the corner of his eye. What was he doing here? It was incredibly dangerous: surely he had to know he was in a village filled to the brim with hunters. But maybe he didn't feel he had much of a choice. Wounded, he could never have gone very far from the village. He just had to hope that nobody noticed his limp.

Anduin watched him as he ordered the stew and a pint. The hunters, though still suspicious, had resumed their conversations. For a while, all was calm, until one hunter, Martial, stood up and approached the stranger.

"Hey," he said while kicking the stool he sat on. "You."

The man put his pint down and looked up at the hunter. His face expressed no fear or annoyance - Anduin was impressed.

"Yes?"

Everyone in the pub turned their attention to the altercation. Some stood up, preparing to pounce if the stranger even so much as budged a muscle. Anduin grabbed his drink and finally took a sip of it, watching the exchange closely.

Martial leaned in close to the stranger. Disgust flashed on the wolf's face, too quickly for anyone to notice except Anduin.

"Haven't seen you around here before," Martial sneered.

The man made an obvious effort to remain calm and answer poisedly: "I'm just passing through."

Another hunter stepped forward on the other side of the man. "Dangerous woods," he commented.

Martial slammed his fist on the bar. The glasses rattled.

"You wouldn't happen to have seen anything… strange?" he asked.

The stranger was effectively trapped with the two men around him, the bar blocking his way. His heartrate spiked, audible only to Anduin's heightened hearing.

"I only want a meal," the man tried to defend himself, "I'll be gone before nightfall."

Anduin bit his lip. This was the wrong thing to say.

"Why?" Martial asked, suddenly invading the stranger's space, pushing his face so close to the other Anduin winced. "Got somewhere to be?"

"Murdering our mates," a voice suddenly suggested.

There was a murmur. The hunter was quickly shut down. As a rule, they avoided throwing accusations without proof. It had proven essential for their small community of hunters not to kill one other. The stranger paled.

'What," he stuttered, "what do you mean?"

"Oh," Martial's tone was playful, almost sadistic. "You don't know? There are werewolves out. Better be careful at night in the woods. Less we shoot you, thinking you're one of them."

Anduin frowned in disapproval. He understood the suspicion: hell, they were right. But he never approved of useless cruelty. He started getting up slowly, not wanting to attract attention too soon. 

"Thank you for the warning," the stranger answered, features hardening.

"Unless," Martial continued, "we'd have good reason to shoot you… wolf."

"Enough."

Everyone turned to face Anduin. He straigthened up, using his height to establish his dominance. The two younger hunters looked at him with anger flashing in their eyes. He tightened his jaw and sharpened his gaze, daring them to challenge him. Thankfully, his age and experience won. Grumbling, Martial and his friends relented. With one sweeping look, Anduin detered the others from doubling down. Everyone went back to their drinks, sneaking not-so-discreet glances towards the bar.

Anduin sat down next to the stranger, leaving a respectful distance of one stool between them.

"Tessa," he called the maid, "put this boy's meal on my tab."

Tessa nodded her assent. The stranger was staring at him, a contrite look on his face.

"You really don't have to."

Anduin smiled goodnaturedly. "I want to. These guys are pricks. Though they were right about one thing: those woods aren't safe. Better be careful tonight."

Saying so, he glanced at the stranger's leg. Fear flashed across his face. Anduin winked at him and smiled, hoping to convey what he wouldn't say anything. It was a risky gamble: whether the boy would trust him or not. Though he didn't exactly relax, he didn't get up and leave either. Anduin would count that as a win.

He didn't know whether the boy could smell him: assaulted as he was certainly by all the different smells, especially those of the other men, and distracted by hunger, it was unlikely. Now the air had settled, after the initial opening of the door, Anduin could barely smell him, which was a relief. His nerves were sufficiently on edge: he wanted nothing more than to gulp down a dose of wolfsbane to suppress his wolf senses. Since their first meeting, Anduin could feel the wolf in him waking and stirring. He didn't know how he would react to the presence of an alpha, especially as untethered as this young wolf seemed to be.

A few seconds passed and Anduin thought their conversation might end here. The stranger looked mistrustful which he couldn't blame him for. But suddenly the man thrust his hand out at him and said:

"I'm Khadgar."

Surprised, Anduin shook his hand, feeling the warmth of it. A tiny shock travelled from his fingertips throughout his arm. He hoped that Khadgar didn't notice.

"Lothar," he answered.

Khadgar smiled, albeit hesitantly. He licked his lip and stared at his plate. Anduin's blood rushed to his head, making him dizzy. 

"Thanks for the warning," Khadgar said, quietly. 

"Gotta look out for one another," Anduin said, twirling his drink. "Otherwise what's the point."

He refused to look at Khadgar. Whether he had recognized him as a fellow werewolf or not, it wasn't a conversation they could have in a pub full of hunters.

"Come from far?" he asked instead.

Khadgar nodded slowly.

"Going far?" Anduin said softly. He crossed Khadgar's gaze then and hoped that Khadgar saw how much he understood him.

"Yeah," Khadgar sighed.

"Must be lonely, travelling alone."

Khadgar chuckled. A twinkle lit up in his eyes, soothing Anduin's worries. "You get used to it, I guess."

"I guess," Anduin echoed.

Khadgar finally started eating, gulping the meal down in large spoonfuls. He was done in mere minutes. Anduin chuckled and Khadgar blushed. Anduin's mouth dried up. He had to close his hands in tight fists to prevent himself from doing something rash, like reaching over to wipe some sauce from the corner of Khadgar's lips. He was in a worse condition that he thought. It had been so long since he had been near an alpha - so long since he'd been near any werewolf, period. It made his blood sing and boil at the same time. He felt torn: he felt elated.

"You can have more," he told Khadgar, gesturing at the plate.

But Khadgar was already shaking his head. "No," he said, wiping his face. "I should go, actually."

He looked almost sorry. Anduin smiled and nodded tiredly. He tried, through one gaze, to convey all that he couldn't say, all that he felt in that moment: the worry, the remorse, the frustration he could feel building up. It must have been a scary sight to see, for Khadgar stared at him, stricken, just a tinge of confusion staining his cheeks.

"Be safe," Anduin said, throat constricting.

Khadgar nodded. "I'll try." He made to leave but turned back around, hand reaching out and squeezing Anduin's arm. "Thank you," he said earnestly.

Anduin watched him leave. The heavy door shut with a slam, hiding him from Anduin's view. It felt simultaneously as thought he couldn't breathe and as if his lungs finally could work properly again. He wanted to run out after him - and was rooted to the spot.


	2. hunting

Taria had gone to the woods, despite the danger it posed. She considered gathering herbs more important than staying safe. While Anduin knew why she did it and he was grateful, he wanted her to be more careful. She didn't know how he would react if she was ever hurt while out gathering the ingredients needed for his wolfsbane potion. She always refused Anduin to accompany her, though. He shouldn't be putting himself under direct moonlight for too long, especially on a full moon. Besides, she was more than capable of defending herself. She hadn't survived ten years of having a werewolf as a sibling without knowing a technique or two.

It was a precise potion. You couldn't make it in advance because it couldn't be stocked. It needed a specific combination of plants, gathered under the moonlight and then mixed. During the winter, the flowers were even harder to find. They only grew in hidden places and were so much rarer. It had been multiple nights that Taria had been unable to find enough to make the potion. And this morning, Anduin had taken the last dose. She needed to bring some flowers back or Anduin would not make it through the night without transforming. She would never have let the situation become so dire normally. But the appearance of a werewolf had altered her plans: although Anduin understood why she would take such risks to go into the forest, the other villagers would question her going despite the wolf.

It wasn't necessarily the werewolves that scared her. They were rare, even if they were admittedly the most dangerous of creatures when they were hungry and scared and crazed. But the forest was filled to the brim with spirits and creatures the hunters didn't even dream of. They were smart enough to hide whenever someone with a gun and a frightening aura passed through. But whenever a child got lost, it was rare to see them come back. Taria knew that firsthand.

She still dreamt of her children. She had done everything she could to protect them and still they had been lured in by a night fae, creeping at the edges of the woods one day. Her husband Llane had been wrecked by grief and never recovered. He was found hanged in the forest one night by a group of hunters. Taria still didn't know whether to believe it was a suicide or something else.

She trekked carefully through the woods, her boots making the branches crack. The forest wasn't silent, quite the contrary. She could hear the bugs and animals in the trees and on the forest floor, going about their lives. There were no alarming noises and she kept walking. The flowers she was looking for were tiny and hard to find. She had to go slowly through the woods in order not to miss any.

A sudden howl broke through the quiet night. Taria started and swore. She was sure it would have been heard back at the village: the hunters, all geared up, were probably running to invistigate already. She needed to leave the forest otherwise she risked getting hit by a stray bullet or finding herself facing the wolf. But she hadn't found any flowers. She hesitated, looking at the bright glow of the moon above her. It seemed to be taunting her. When she heard a crack near her, she stilled, holding her breath.

As she focused intently, she began to hear the huffs from a large animal. She turned around slowly and had to bite back a cry. A huge wolf, of a deep brown color, stared at her. Its eyes glowed supernaturally in the light: instead of refracting the light, they glowed a bright blue. Taria willed herself to stay calm, knowing panicking would only make matters worse. At least the wolf didn't look like it wanted to tear her apart: it merely stared at her. Slowly, she grabbed the long knife she always kept in her bag.

She gasped when the wolf took a step forward and approached its snuff. It sniffed loudly, its eyes almost falling close in a squint. Her heart hammered painfully in her chest.

The hunters' shouts were getting closer and closer. A lamp light ran over the both of them. The wolf cowered, its ears folding. A low growl started in its throat. Hurried footsteps echoed through the forest.

Hunters burst through the trees, their guns held tight and torchlights high. Taria screamed, "No!" The wolf pounced.

In seconds it had maimed every person threatening it and ran away. The least injured hunter, Liam, cast a horrified look on the scene around them. His father Genn was holding his arm, his hand shining with fresh blood and face twisted in pain. Uther groaned from where he had fallen on the ground, legs swiped from under him.

"I can't get up," he told them.

In shock, Taria almost didn't realize she had been hurt too. A huge gash across her stomach began bleeding. She exchanged a panicked look with Liam who immediately rushed to her side to support her.

"Help!" he yelled.

Other hunters gathered around them. Immediately they organized themselves to help the injured back to the village.

"It's totally rabid," Genn hissed before being pulled away, "someone needs to put it down!"

At the village, they were met with the men and women who had stayed behind. Some of the older folks, upon realizing they had been hurt by the werewolf, signed themselves on sight and locked themselves in their house. They were led to the church where they usually treated their injured and sick. The priest was waiting for them, looking somber.

As he was checking on Taria, Anduin burst into the church. He looked around for Taria and as soon as their gazes locked, cried out in relief.

"Are you alright?" he asked her, falling to his knees next to her.

He looked at the priest, anxious. "The wound is rather serious," Father Alonsus said, "I have to tend to her immediately. Please, give me space."

As soon as the priest touched her wound, it was as if Taria was only now becoming aware of it. She yelled as the pain erupted. It felt like her guts were on fire: she almost passed out.

"Father," she managed to grunt, "am I infected?"

Although he tried his best, Father Alonsus couldn't hide his worry. "It is too soon to say, child."

He made her lie down as he applied his hands on her, calling to the Light to heal her. As the soothing light encompassed her, Taria saw Anduin get closer to her. He cradled her head, whispering encouraging words. His eyes were filled with tears and Taria could see how bright they glowed. He had risked much by leaving the house and coming to see her despite the moon shining. But it was foolish: he needed to get away from the village before he transformed or he would be hunted, just like the wolf in the forest.

"Anduin," she whispered, "you need to go." She widened her eyes, hoping he would understand.

"No, I won't leave you."

"You must," she gasped. "I'm sorry… I failed."

"Shut up," Anduin snapped, "you're telling nonsense."

"Listen to me," she groaned, "I'll be fine. You _need_ to leave. Please."

She couldn't bear to lose him. She already almost had, that day ten years ago. They'd almost lost everything back then. All they had left was each other now. She would not lose him tonight. And neither would he lose her. She hardened her gaze and Anduin, eventually, nodded.

As he raised his head, he noticed Uther, his injured leg propped on a chair, staring right at him. Though his face was expressionless, Anduin felt a shudder run through him. He quickly averted his gaze. He saw Liam leaning above his father, who was trying to shoo him away. Genn was holding his hand against his arm. So much blood, so much pain… It made Anduin's head swim. But no werewolf would be created tonight: he could smell it as surely as he recognized Khadgar's scent in the wounds. Only a werewolf bite would turn you. Khadgar had only used his claws.

Despite the fact that he had wounded his sister as well as his closest friend, Anduin could not bring himself to resent Khadgar. He could only imagine the state of mind the young werewolf, wounded, hunted, battling his rut, must be in. But the more people he hurt, the more determined the hunters would get to find him and kill him. Anduin had to try helping him - he would never forgive himself if he didn't. Khadgar could not stay in the woods where he would inevitably be found. Anduin had to bring him to the cottage where he went to wait out his particularly strong heats. It was officially a hunting lodge and had belonged to his family for generations. In reality, it had been used by his mother and the mothers before her, as a witch's laboratory. It was far enough away that the hunters from the village rarely treaded near it. It had kept him safe before. He hoped it would again tonight.

He looked down at Taria, wishing for her to give him one last reassurance. But the pain had made her close her eyes tightly, a grimace set on her face. He hesitated, wanting to stay at her side to support her. But he could feel the transformation settling in his bones and pulling at his flesh, getting more insistent with every second that passed. If he stayed, he wouldn't be putting just himself in danger, but every one in the church. And he wasn't certain he would limit himself to using his claws.

Although it broke his heart, Anduin left the church. If anyone were to ask him, he would say he was going to kill the wolf that had dared injure his sister. But no one stopped him. Gazes followed him through the village. Their house was a little ways away, down a dirt road, hidden from view by a row of trees. He had to stop at the door to get a grip on himself. The night was clear and the moon shone mercilessly. Only the remaining effects from the wolfsbane he had ingested this morning permitted him to stay human. He went into the house and grabbed the essential: his knife, rope, a heavy coat. He really didn't want to have to restrain the wolf, but he knew he had to prepare for that eventuality.

Finally ready, he pulled the hood of his coat over his head and stepped out. He couldn't see anyone so he headed directly for the forest. He let his senses guide him. He could feel the bitter tinge of gunpowder in the air. Earlier, he had heard the gunshots, each of them leaving him rattled as he imagined Khadgar lying in a puddle of blood, chest heaving, his brown fur stained and dirty. But apart from the injured in the church, Anduin could not smell any fresh blood. He could, however, pick up on the older wound in Khadgar's leg. As soon as he caught a whiff of it in the air, he set out on the trail.

He passed a group of hunters and hid from them. He observed them as they looked for pawprints on the soil. Finally, he saw them head in the opposite direction than what the smell indicated. Though he was confused, Anduin chose to trust his wolf senses rather than his hunter instincts. He followed the trail to a low rocky hill. He treaded cautiously until he found the entrance to a cave. The smell had only gotten stronger until now. He was sure that Khadgar was inside.

Anduin took out his knife and rope and prepared to subdue the rabid beast. He couldn't afford to be taken by surprise and hurt and for Khadgar to run away now. He took a deep breath before he stepped into the cave.

He stilled when he heard a sound in the dark. A low, pained grunt, that sounded way too human.

Taken aback, Anduin raised his voice: "Khadgar?"

Another grunt, louder, answered him. Abandoning all caution, Anduin rushed to the back of the cave. He was stunned to see Khadgar, very much human still, huddled in the back. He had only ropes of clothing on him, tattered and dirty, and was shivering. Anduin approached him gently, unwilling to startle him.

"Khadgar," he called out to make sure the man was aware of his presence.

Khadgar groaned again and this time spoke: "It's too strong," he snarled, "I can't hold it back."

"It's alright," Anduin said, in what he hoped was a placating tone, "I'm here to help."

He knelt to get closer to Khadgar. He reached out a hand and placed it on Khadgar's back. He immediately recoiled and turned to hiss at him. His eyes shone like diamonds, unnaturally blue. The wolf inside Anduin cowered immediately, making him want to flatten on the ground and whimper. Anduin resisted the urge and forced himself to hold Khadgar's gaze. When the alpha realized he would not be so easily impressed, he relented.

"What help could you be to me, hunter?" he snarled.

Anduin cast his eyes downwards. "You and I have a lot more in common than you think."

He removed his coat and placed it on Khadgar's shoulders. The man started in surprise before he grabbed the fabric and wrapped it closely around himself. He took a deep breath in. His eyes shot open, pupils narrowing to almost nothing before widening. A growl was ripped from his throat and a spasm went through him as he visibly held himself back from lashing out. Anduin couldn't help himself from recoiling slightly. Khadgar's face immediately expressed how sorry he felt and Anduin felt regretful.

"You're a werewolf," Khadgar gasped.

Anduin nodded slowly, refusing to meet his gaze. If he had finally smelled him, then he also knew what he was: an omega. Last night in the forest, Khadgar hadn't been aware enough to truly notice, but now he was human and conscious, the flare of lust in his eyes was unmistakeable. Anduin felt a thrill go through him, equally delicious and sickening. He tried his best to suppress it. He knew adding his own hormones to the mix would have a devastating effect on Khadgar's already weakened state.

"How?" Khadgar asked - his features set harshly and a glare in his eyes.

Anduin blinked.

"How can you still hunt?" Khadgar snarled.

With a sigh, Anduin shook his head. "It's complicated," he shrugged. It truly was and he didn't have the time to explain: he knew the hunters would get the dogs out soon to sniff out the wolf's trace. They needed to get out of here quickly.

"I know a place," he pressed, "where we can be safe. For tonight," he added, as an afterthought.

He had heard of a place where werewolves could live freely, somewhere far away, far across the sea. He didn't know whether to think it was a lie or a legend. Of all the wolves he knew who had attempted the voyage, none had come back, but he had no way of knowing if they had made it or not. Faced with such uncertainty, he had never dared try crossing himself. He thought of himself as more useful here anyway, helping fellow wolves like Khadgar.

"Come on," he told Khadgar.

He exited the cave without waiting for him. Night had fallen completely, pitch black. His heightened vision did not pick up on any light nearby but he wasn't a fool: hunters, even human ones, practiced seeing in the dark to make hunting prey easier. He stayed wary.

The sky was clear: the stars and moon shone brightly, casting the forest in shadows. Anduin breathed in deeply, feeling the moon rays wash over him, being absorbed by his skin. He felt his molecules start moving and boiling, seconds away from transmuting into the modified DNA dictated by the curse. But the wolfsbane still in his veins prevented his transformation from being complete. He groaned, pain erupting all over his skin and deep in his bones, as the wolf was denied.

Khadgar emerged just a second after him. He wasn't even out of the cave before he shifted. The transformation was almost immediate. He was covered in fur and fell forward on all fours, his face elongated. A wet snuff pressed itself against Anduin's back as the wolf - no longer quite Khadgar, not quite something else either - smelled him. Anduin shivered. The wolf growled. If he was already far enough in his rut, there was nothing that would prevent him from taking Anduin right here, right now, despite the danger. But the wolf stepped back and hung his head low, a clear gesture of submission. Anduin exhaled shakily.

"Alright," he chuckled, relief pouring out of him in waves, "let's go, you great beast."

They started the trek through the forest. More than once, Anduin felt a hesitation from Khadgar, as if he wanted to ask questions. Nonetheless he followed him, perhaps deciding that he had more to lose by refusing to trust him than the contrary. They both jumped when barks echoed through the otherwise silent forest. Anduin quickened his steps, trusting his senses to know they were going in the right direction. Eventually, little lights appeared in the branches, high overhead. Khadgar tensed, growling low in his throat and stepping closer to Anduin in a protective stance. 

Placing a hand on his shoulder, Anduin soothed him. "It's alright, they're friends."

The _fairies_ , as he called them, despite never having seen them close enough to know exactly what they were, had been there for as long as he could remember. They had never once attacked him even as he prowled the woods in wolf form, desperatly trying to reach the cottage in time. They illuminated the way through the woods for him, reassuring him that they weren't lost. 

Suddenly, there was a noise, much closer to them than either of them expected. They stilled and held their breath. Even the glimmers disappeared, blinking in and out of existence a few times. They waited for a movement or a repeat of the sound but none came. It seemed to Anduin as if the forest rippled then though he could not tell which of his senses informed him of any difference. A loud whistle broke through the silence and a projectile flew between the trees. It hit its target with a dull sound quickly followed by a disguting gurgle. A loud thump resounded, like a body hitting the floor.

Slowly, Anduin turned towards the direction the arrow had come from. The trees were quiet. Khadgar started growling louder and sniffing the air. With an arm Anduin held him back. Through the bushes, all he could see were two pairs of glowing orbs: eyes, he presumed. Slowly, he nodded his thanks, hoping it would be received. The fairies came back slowly, adding their shine to that of the moon and lighting the rest of the way.

"Come," Anduin whispered to Khadgar.

The wolf did not relax but he did follow when Anduin started walking again. As they neared the river, the sound of the flowing water covered all others. It did not help their anxiety. Anduin kept glancing around, trying to pierce through the rows of trees, to replace his flooded sense of hearing. They jumped in the water and wade through, muscles fighting against the freezing current. The fairies didn't follow them across the river: they stayed on the other side, watching from the branches, glowing bright.

The cottage was only a few minutes away. In the dark, Anduin could only see its black shape in the sudden clearing in the woods. He hadn't been there in a long while. It used to belong to their mother's family and the village avoided it because there were rumors that they were witches, able to curse anyone who would step too close to the wooden house. It had served him well to hide from the villagers on difficult nights. He hoped it would again tonight.

He had to push the door with his entire weight in order to get it to open. He stumbled inside and coughed as he breathed in the disrupted dust.

"Come in," he said in a mocking tone, turning to gesture Khadgar inside.

The great wolf had trouble getting inside through the door as he was too wide. Not hiding his sniggering, Anduin opened a window wide and Khadgar had to jump through. He landed softly in a cloud of white dust. He shook himself clean, looking not unlike a dog. Anduin smiled and shook his head before closing both door and window.

"Make yourself at home," he said but when he turned he noticed that Khadgar hadn't waited for his invitation.

Safe from the direct glow of the moonlight, Khadgar must have made an exceptional effort to shift back into his human form. He had only partially succeeded: hunched on the only bed in the cabin, his legs were still crooked and covered in fur, his hands ended on long sharp claws, his mouth still resembled more a snout. More importantly, he was naked and shivering in the cold. With time and effort, he could learn to control the magical transformation and keep his clothes. When Anduin did it, he felt as if the cloth in itself entered his skin before it transformed into the thick furry hide of a wolf. It wasn't necessarily the most comfortable but at least he had clothes on when he shifted back. He sighed and headed for the armoire. He pulled out all the blankets there were and handed them to Khadgar.

Without a word, he grabbed the blankets and started wrapping himself up in them, tying one around his waist to act as a skirt. As Khadgar dressed, Anduin located and lit a couple of candles. They cast long shadows on the wall, making it seem as if they weren't so alone anymore. Once warmly wrapped, Khadgar sat back down on the bed and stared at Anduin warily.

"You might have been able to shift back right now," Anduin said, "but that surely won't last. You probably already feel the pull of the wolf, even stronger than before."

Khadgar didn't agree but he didn't deny it either.

"I'm going to go out and try to find wolfsbane."

Khadgar's eyes widened almost imperceptibly.

"I thought," he started saying - but his voice was so rough and stuck in his throat that he had to cough a few times before he could speak: "I thought it was a myth."

With a tired smile, Anduin answered: "Like we're just myths?"

Khadgar rolled his eyes. "Fine," he muttered.

Shaking his head, Anduin headed outside. The moon was still high uphead, casting its glow around, illuminating the forest floor. It was even harder to resist: he really needed to find wolfsbane, or Khadgar wouldn't be the only one shifting before the night was through. He trekked through the forest, looking around carefully. He walked for nearly an hour and he had only found a handful of tiny blue flowers. With every minute that passed under the white glow of the moon, he could feel his control over himself slipping. Eventually, he had to go back to the cabin.

When he entered, Khadgar was moaning and writhing on the bed. He cried out in pain when Anduin sat by his side to lay a hand on his burning face.

"Hold on," Anduin told him.

He hurried to the kitchen and prepared the potion. As he suspected, he only had enough for one dose, barely enough to keep Khadgar from losing his mind considering how far gone he was already. But, he told himself, it was still better than nothing. He filled a syringe and hurried back to Khadgar's side. He was almost fully transformed. Thankfully the pain prevented him from lashing out at Anduin although he did groan threateningly.

"It'll be over soon," Anduin promised.

He sunk the needle in Khadgar's thigh and pushed. Khadgar howled: at once he was on his feet, one big paw swiping at Anduin, sending him to the floor. He slid on the ground until his back hit the wall. Khadgar screamed: a human scream, broken and high-pitched, ending on a gasp and then, a sob. Anduin struggled to his feet and approached Khadgar gingerly. 

"Khadgar?" he called out softly.

The man was standing in the middle of the room, eyes wide open. His shifting had been stopped rather suddenly and now, slowly, almost imperceptibly, it was receding. The fur disappeared, his teeth shrunk, his limbs shortened, until he was only human. When it was over, he slumped. It was clear that the whole ordeal had exhausted him.

"Come on," Anduin said, "surely there must be some food left in here."

He found some potatoes that had been left in a cupboard. Some of them had sprouted but others were still edible. He wordlessly handed Khadgar some along with a knife and the young man started peeling them. They cooked them over the fire, with some oil he'd found in a dirty bottle and some dry herbs. It wouldn't be the greatest meal they had ever had, especially with the wolves inside them craving meat, but it would feed them. 

They ate in silence, each standing at opposite ends of the tiny kitchen. From this distance, Anduin could almost ignore his smell, though it wafted near him occasionally, causing the hair on his arms to rise. He could feel, building inside him like a tide, his desire grow and grow, like a hunger but deeper, more carnal. He tried his best to hide it although he could feel his pulse racing and his palms getting clammy. He focused on his meal trying to feed the monster inside him potatoes and dry herbs. It didn't work.

Since he had also found coffee beans, he set out to brew coffee over the fire. As the water simmered, Anduin snuck a glance at Khadgar: he looked peaceful, staring into a dark corner, expressionless. The wolfsbane had done wonders to him although he looked distant. It made Anduin feel small and helpless - he wanted to crawl over to Khadgar and put his head on his lap. He wanted to curl into his heat and sigh. He wanted so much more. He couldn't give in to what the wolf craved. Not now that Khadgar had regained control over himself and the tables had turned, Anduin struggling with every second to reign in the wild desires in his core. He glared into the fire, the glow of it imprinting bright shadows into his retinas. The coffee started pouring out, large, heavy spouts into the container, the strong scent momentarily taking over his senses. Anduin breathed in deeply, letting the coffee bring back memories of a time long gone… a time he hadn't had to deal with urges such as these of baring his belly or howling in the night.

The coffee had finished brewing long before Anduin opened his eyes again. It bubbled happily in the container, dark and rich. Anduin felt a shock run through him and he guiltily filled two cups. Khadgar still hadn't said a word.


	3. bonding

"I should go."

The words hung heavily in the still air between them. Khadgar didn't make any move to leave. His coffee in his hand was getting colder, Anduin could tell by smell alone. It was getting worse with every minute he spent in Khadgar's presence. His senses were sharpening to an uncomfortable level. He could hear the brush of fabrics everytime Khadgar so much as breathed. Pretty soon he knew he would be able to hear even his heart beat. If he focused he could already smell it: the intoxicating pulse of his warm blood through his veins. He longed to sink his teeth into his skin and taste it. This was the less pleasant part of the heat.

Perhaps he should leave, Anduin thought. The both of them would only get more worked up until one or the two of them snapped and then they would be sorry. The wolfsbane had totally stopped having any effect on him and the little amount he was able to administer Khadgar would not make him get through the night.

Anduin sighed and put down his own mug.

"No." He looked away, breathed in deeply. Instinctively, he listened to the sounds around the cabin. No one would find them here, he had assured Khadgar. He couldn't help but feel anxious. "Are you crazy?" he asked, turning to look Khadgar in the eyes. "You're safer here. If you get out here now, you'll transform again. They're still out there hunting. If they find you they'll kill you."

He could smell the youth's relief. It took much control for him not to sneer at the onslaught. He wondered how he smelled to the younger man's snout. Could he feel his hormones being released like a dam being opened? If he could, he hid it well. Perhaps the wolfsbane was working well enough to suppress his heightened senses, even if they couldn't stop the rut. Khadgar's pheromones stunk up the place, worsening Anduin's condition. At least he wasn't in any danger of shifting… yet.

He smelled Khadgar's worry before he even asked:

"What about you?"

Anduin smiled. "Guess we'll just have to hold up in here together for as long as necessary."

The smell turned to embarrassment. Anduin offered Khadgar a sympathetic smile. The cottage was tiny: one bedroom, a washroom, a kitchen. No privacy, no distraction.

Khadgar sipped his coffee and for a blessed second all Anduin could scent was the strong coffee smell which, disturbed, wafted over to him.

"Thank you," Khadgar said quietly.

Anduin nodded.

The temperature inside the cabin was freezing. Anduin paced back and forth to try and keep the blood flowing. He huffed and blew into his hands to warm up. Compared to him, Khadgar seemed unaffected, huddled as he was in the blankets. He sat at the windowsill, staring silently outside. He was an example of self-control. Anduin snuck glances at him at an increasing frequency.

Interrogations about the younger man pressed themselves in Anduin's mind, begging to be asked. Where did he come from? How was he turned? How did he feel about it? All of those questions seemed way too personal but Anduin was compelled to ask them anyway. He was drawn to the other man in a way he hadn't felt in a long time.

He tried to rationalize that it was because of the heat. It had been years since he had to truly go through one. The wolfsbane worked well enough and Taria had always made sure they had enough. He could only remember one or two times when he had almost gone crazy with the need to mate. It made him feel terrible, reminding him that he was nothing but an animal, incapable of controlling himself. He didn't feel better about it now, without the helpful suppressant, and an alpha in rut just a few steps away.

He scoffed, disgusted at himself. It made Khadgar turn to stare at him curiously. He felt himself blush and he averted his gaze.

Anduin poured them both some more coffee, trying to bring warmth back to their freezing bodies. He thought about how ironic it was that they might be better off turning tonight, if only so they might survive the cold. But there was no telling what any of them would do in wolf form. Outside of a pack who could teach them how they stay in control, they weren't far from the beasts that the hunters were convinced they were.

Khadgar sat shivering on the windowsill, underneath three blankets.

"Can't we light the fire?" he begged.

"And betray our presence?" Anduin shot back.

Khadgar glared at him. Now that he had mentioned it, the thought of a warm fire wouldn't leave Anduin, worsening the cold in his limbs. It further dampened his mood. Anduin only hesitated for a couple more seconds before he sighed. He came to his decision. It wouldn't matter that the hunters would find them: at this rate, all they would find would be two frozen corpses.

"Fine," he grumbled. Khadgar perked up, the prospect of warmth bringing some life back into him. He shuffled with his blankets nearer the fireplace and together they set up the fire. The logs resisted at first, cold and wet. But eventually they crackled with heat. They both sat down near the hearth, breathing sighs of relief.

"Thank you," Khadgar whispered.

Anduin waved the thanks away. He stared into the weak and flickering flames. With the sudden heat, he felt tiredness settle in him. Logically he knew he needed to sleep but he fought to keep his eyes opened.

He was overly aware of Khadgar's gaze on him. The young man's eyes, so curious, so open, latched onto him. He wasn't even blinking. It was impressive how still he managed to stay instead of jumping onto him. Eventually, Anduin sighed and snapped:

"What."

Khadgar started, averting his gaze. Flames gazed in his eyes. He licked his lips. Anduin's breath hitched.

"When did you get turned?" Khadgar asked quietly.

Anduin raised an eyebrow. It wasn't that he hadn't expected him to ask: it was that he had expected it much, much earlier, and since Khadgar hadn't yet, he had eventually forgotten about it. He tensed instinctively, turning away from Khadgar, facing the fire more frankly, without really realizing he was doing it. He heard Khadgar get up and shuffle towards him. He sat near the fire, relaxing in the heat. He turned his curious gaze back on him. He wasn't going to accept silence as an answer.

"Years," Anduin said.

Khadgar smiled sadly. "How many years?"

Anduin huffed. "What does it matter?"

"I don't know," Khadgar frowned. "It might give me hope. You're still alive."

"No thanks to you," Anduin grumbled. It was unfair. He felt too irritated to care.

"I was only trying to survive," Khadgar retorted with a flare of fire in his eyes. It blew Anduin away - much too strong a feeling for such a small detail, but he knew he was done for already. The only thing he still wondered would be if he would bear Khadgar's presence until the morning, when they could - maybe, probably, hopefully - part ways safely.

Taken aback, he held his breath and Khadgar's gaze for long seconds. He breathed out in a controlled manner which didn't hide how his hands trembled. Khadgar's eyes jumped from one detail to the next in his composure, pupils dilating. They both averted their gazes at the same time. The fire turned out to be the center of all attention: flattered, it flared, sending a wave of heat in their cheeks.

"Ten years," Anduin finally admitted.

Khadgar whistled quietly. "How did you do it?"

"What?"

"Hide it. In a town full of hunters. It must have been hell."

Anduin thought about it for a minute. He wouldn't agree with Khadgar - hiding his nature hadn't been the worst. The worst had been coming to terms with the fact he was now what he loathed the most, a monster, a beast. A wolf.

"Wolfsbane," he said curtly, as if it explained it all. "My sister makes it. She's a potioneer in town. No one ever questions her gathering flowers in moonlight. We make it work."

Khadgar nodded, picking at strands in his blanket, and then asked:

"You still hunt?"

"Yeah," Anduin shrugged. "I have to."

"Wolves?" Khadgar asked, so quiet Anduin's ears twitched from straining to hear.

Anduin felt a weight settle on his shoulders and he answered, with cautious contrition: "Not if I can help it."

Khadgar knew that already. It was the only reason he was still alive today after their first meeting in the woods, that night which felt so long ago. He still nodded, falling into somber silence. He shifted, removing a layer of blanket, and his scent hit Anduin with great force. He sucked in a breath. Khadgar at least was kind enough to send him an apologetic glance.

"What about you?" Anduin asked, trying for casual interest and failing. 

Khadgar darkened, annoyance clearly written on his face. It sparked a bit of satisfied retaliation in Anduin before he realized how childish that was. Khadgar's turning was a way fresher wound.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

"It's fine," Khadgar sighed. "I was turned nine months ago."

Anduin winced. He remembered his own turning: for about a year after that, even with the help of wolfsbane, he was in terrible pain and discomfort every month. He didn't even want to imagine what it was like for Khadgar.

"It was my fault," Khadgar kept on.

Anduin frowned. "How so?"

Khadgar glanced at him, sorrow mixing with hesitation. "It was someone I trusted. They tried to protect me but I was too curious. I followed them one night… They couldn't control themselves."

Khadgar fell silent. Taking notice of how strongly Anduin shivered, he offered him a blanket. Anduin hesitated before he took it and wrapped himself in it. It was a mistake. The cloth stunk of Khadgar's scent. Anduin suddenly felt overheated but it had nothing to do with the blanket or the fire. This warmth started deep in his core and spread. He must have made a noise or perhaps his own scent changed because Khadgar suddenly leant closer to him, worried.

"Are you alright?"

Anduin grunted, not trusting himself to speak. He wished Khadgar would step away at least. He needed to remove the blanket, douse himself in water, scrub until the scent would go away and he would regain control over his needs. He hated feeling this enslaved to his nature. His eyes closed, he could only trust his sense of smell to know when it clicked in Khadgar's mind. He didn't need to see to know that his pupils dilated until his eyes were fully black or that his mouth watered. The scent of alpha suddenly took over the whole room. He whimpered, helpless.

The scent suddenly relented. Able to breathe again, Anduin opened his eyes. Khadgar had retreated to the other side of the room, far from the fire. His eyes were large and dark as he huddled underneath the blankets, trying to make himself as still and small as possible.

"I'm sorry," he stuttered.

Stunned, Anduin did not know what to say. He had expected the worst: a young wolf, going through his first rut, realizing that he was in the company of an omega, in heat… How Khadgar had managed to control himself was a mystery. Anduin forcibly relaxed his body. Khadgar trembled in his corner, half out of cold, half out of fear. Anduin could smell it.

"It's alright," Anduin tried saying but his voice was weak. "You won't hurt me." He didn't know whether he believed this yet but he felt he needed Khadgar to hear it.

"You're in heat," Khadgar stated bluntly, voice laced with a growl.

Not that in control then, Anduin thought with a thrill.

"Yes."

"You should leave. You're not safe here."

Anduin scoffed. "We'll be fine."

"We won't," Khadgar groaned.

Fear settled in Anduin's stomach. He only glanced at the door and Khadgar was growling. It was obvious he was holding himself back but the beast inside raged. Trying his best to stay calm, Anduin shuffled away from Khadgar, hoping to put enough distance between them to diminish their scents' effect. He could feel Khadgar's arousal still, coming out of him in waves. His own body reacted accordingly, in spite of himself. Khadgar's eyes closed and his body trembled. He managed to curl himself even tighter, burying his nose in his own scent. 

"It's alright." Anduin didn't know who he was most trying to reassure. "You're fine. I gave you the wolfsbane. It will help you control it."

Tears gathered in Khadgar's eyes. 

"Don't."

Anduin sighed and kept his distance. They fell into a forlorn silence, as the wind howled. The fire eventually died and Anduin stood up to kill the last glowing embers. The room was plunged into near darkness. On edge, Anduin could feel the call of the moon, beckoning him outside.

"Let's try and sleep," he said, not even looking in Khadgar's direction.

Without asking, he grabbed the blanket and settled himself on the floor the furthest away from the bed. Khadgar did not try to argue, climbing into the bed. His breathing slowed and so did his heartbeat as he fell into sleep almost immediately. Anduin turned, trying to make himself comfortable. With each twist of the blanket around him, wafts of Khadgar's strong scent filled his nose, preventing from dozing off. Anduin sighed and tried to ignore the cold hard stone underneath him. 


	4. Howling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I moved the end of the last chapter to the beginning of this one for better flow. I hope it isn't too confusing.  
> Also: I changed the time that Khadgar's has been turned from 3 months to 9 months.  
> Also to be noted: there is no graphic depiction of sex in this story, despite previous plans.  
> I hope you'll enjoy the final chapters :)

Anduin lay staring at the ceiling for long hours. He thought that if he stayed perfectly still he would eventually have to fall asleep. But every single sound, however faint, that came from the bed made the hair rise on his skin and his blood boil. The wolf in him was aching to be let free. With a defeated groan, Anduin gave up on sleep.

He was rekindling the fire when it started. At first, he didn't pay attention to it: the wind outside was howling, finding its way inside through every little crack in the walls, covering all other sounds. But then his ears picked something else: a low, drawn out sound, coming from the bed. He stilled and listened.

Khadgar moaned again, louder this time. It sounded torn between pain and pleasure. When he cried out, Anduin rushed to his side.

He had kicked the blankets off at some point and they gathered around him on the mattress. His skin was burning up, sweat beading on his brow. He moaned again when Anduin touched him and his body arched up towards him, driven by something greater than himself - greater than them both. Even unconscious, Khadgar called to him in a language transcending words.

Anduin gulped. They were out of wolfsbane and he couldn't go out to collect any more ingredients. Khadgar would only get worse - and by extension, so would he. He didn't dare to think about what could happen if he didn't act now and just let it run its course. His own skin felt frigid, taunt with the need for the other's touch. Without having been touched, he was aching.

There was only one logical course of action if he wanted them both to retain some amount of sanity in the following hours.

He shook Khadgar awake. He jumped out, crying out as he came back to consciousness. He grabbed around, fisting his hand in Anduin's shirt. It tore a whine out of Anduin's throat that sounded barely human. He forced himself to breathe deeply. He needed them to do this right. He would never forgive himself otherwise.

"Khadgar," he grunted.

The younger man let himself fall back down on the bed. His breathing was labored and tiny grunts escaped him on every exhale. It was obvious that his condition had quickly taken a turn for the worse. He was in actual pain, writhing on the pain because of the discomfort that his body was in.

"Hey," Anduin tried to snap him out of his daze, "look at me."

Khadgar's eyes opened, they were glazed and unfocused. Anduin placed his hands on Khadgar's face. He gasped at the sudden coldness on his burning cheeks.

"Anduin," he groaned. "I can't…"

"I know," Anduin shushed him, "I know, dear. Just look at me. Listen."

Khadgar managed to focus his gaze on him, his brow furrowed, cheeks flushed. His scent was so strong now it threatened to overwhelm Anduin. Once more, he marveled at the control that the young wolf showed on himself. Any other wolf would already be all over Anduin trying to get the pain to lessen through any means necessary. Anduin certainly struggled not to simply press himself against the alpha's warm body, desperate to feel him out and inside him. But he knew it would do much more harm than good.

"This is only going to get worse," he told Khadgar. "And soon I won't be able to hold back anymore."

Khadgar's eyes widened. Anduin hoped that his desperation, quickly growing, wouldn't scare the other man.

"This is our last chance at having a choice," Anduin stated.

Khadgar's body was overrun by tiny spasms and he groaned, curling in on himself. The movement brought him even closer to Anduin. It was like a shock where their skins touched. Khadgar tried to shuffle away but Anduin held him tight.

"Please, Khadgar," he said, plainly aware of how pleading his voice sounded, "I don't want to wake up tomorrow and not remember what happened."

Khadgar held his gaze as he considered. Anduin felt the moment he surrendered: it was like a taut string had snapped. Somehow the wolves in them knew what their human minds had agreed on. At once their bodies relaxed of their own and they both took a deep breath, lungs filling with each other's scents, exciting but not overwhelming.

"Me neither," Khadgar admitted. Something in his tone tickled Anduin's brain and he wanted to push but his needs got the better of him. Khadgar brought up a hand and brushed his cheek.

A strong shiver shook Anduin to the core. "Are you cold?" Khadgar asked. He nodded.

Together they dragged the mattress in front of the fireplace. While Khadgar busied himself with lighting the fire, Anduin headed to the kitchen. He searched through the many vials for a lubricant and when he finally found it, he was overwhelmed by what was about to happen. It had been years since he had given himself to someone and obviously, the circumstances could have been better. Still he couldn't bring himself to regretting his decisions. He knew this would be worth both being alive in the morning instead of having to live with Khadgar's death on his conscience. Besides, his need had become so insistent that he could not refuse himself the release any longer.

He felt drawn to the alpha more than he had been drawn to anyone in his life… Except maybe his wife, Cally. But the two experiences were hardly comparable. The wolf in him knew exactly what it needed and how to get it. The human recognized a part of himself in Khadgar: scared, confused, but doggedly determined to _survive_. Stuck as he had been for the past ten years, hiding among those who would have his head the second they found out what he was, Anduin had almost forgotten what it felt like to want to live. He was merely biding his time, waiting for the day the torches and guns would turn and aim at him. Now, as he felt the presence of the alpha, so warm and reassuring, he could see a different future spread before him. A future that was possible if he so chose. That scared him.

A surge of affection, as powerful as unexpected, rose in Anduin's chest when he returned to the main room. Khadgar was sitting on his knees on the mattress on the floor, lit by the flickering flames. He looked eager and unsure. Anduin sat down next to Khadgar who immediately slid closer, burying his nose in the crook of his neck. For a moment all he did was breathe but soon, he started mouthing at the soft skin, letting his teeth drag tentalizingly. Anduin shivered.

"Have you done this before?" he thought it good to ask.

Khadgar stopped, body suddenly tensing before relaxing again. He shifted away, not looking into Anduin's eyes.

"Yes."

Anduin cleared his throat to dispel the sudden awkwardness. He had a hunch, a terrible feeling, about what Khadgar's previous experience with his rut might have been.

"Do you remember it?" he asked, softly, in as neutral a tone as he could muster, wanting Khadgar to know he would not judge him.

Khadgar bit his lip as he finally glanced at him. "Bits and pieces," he admitted.

Anduin breathed out slowly. He couldn't help the pity that swayed his heart momentarily as his suspicions were confirmed. Khadgar's features hardened as he noticed.

"That's fine," Anduin quickly said, "I don't remember my first either."

It was true: the first heats were always the most powerful and even wolfsbane had been unable to hold him back. He had only had the time to ride as far away from his village as possible and then the rest was a blur. He had woken up naked and scratched miles away from his last location he recollected, feeling as disgusted as he was satisfied. He knew, from the marks on his body and the scents that permeated his skin, heady and sickening, that he had met other wolves that night. He had had to walk back home, hiding in the woods so no one would see him staggering half naked. Taria had cleaned and dressed his wounds and they had never talked about it again.

Only once had Anduin actually met with another werewolf during heat and not forgotten about it. They had been gentle and soft and the werewolf - much older and experienced - had taught him much of the things that had made it possible for him to still be alive and unharmed today, including how to avoid bonding. Only a miracle had made it so that not once had an alpha crossed his paths during his heat. Lost to the curse, they would have been unable to resist bonding with him. He hoped they had acted quickly enough with Khadgar to prevent such a risk.

"Do you know what bonding is?" he asked Khadgar who was back at kissing his neck, leaving red wet amrks on the way.

Khadgar went perfectly still. Anduin pulled away from him so he could see his face. It was locked in an emotionless expression. His eyes were hard as steel, staring at the floor. Anduin reached and put his hand on his cheek, gently prompting him to look at him. Khadgar's eyes shifted to his, a storm swirling in them.

"Yes, I do," Khadgar admitted. "I was bonded once."

Anduin gaped: bonding was such an intimate experience, he didn't think that Khadgar had gotten close enough to another werewolf in the short time he had been turned to go through with it. Besides, he wasn't bonded anymore. That much was clear to Anduin since he had first gotten a whiff of Khadgar's scent, a scent that called to any and every werewolf around to come and be claimed. That meant that whoever had been Khadgar's mate had passed away, and Anduin doubted it had been a peaceful death. He could only imagine the pain the loss of his mate must have inflicted on the young alpha. He had heard stories of alphas who had gone insane after such a shock. It proved to him that on top of being incredibly brave, Khagdar was also extremely resilient. It stole Anduin's breath away. Having been turned so recently, Khadgar had lived through tragedy Anduin could not even begin to pretend to know.

"I'm sorry," Anduin whispered. "I wouldn't put you through this again. There are ways to avoid it."

Khadgar's brow furrowed.

"But that wouldn't satisfy the rut," he said with insistence.

Anduin frowned. A glimmer of suspicion lighted up in his mind. "Who told you that?"

Stubbornly, Khadgar stayed silent, red splotches staining his cheeks. Under the scrutiny of Anduin's gaze, tears began gathering in his eyes, brought forth by the embarrassment of the situation. 

"My mate," Khadgar started before swallowing, "the werewolf who turned me. He told me I had to mate with him during my first rut or… I would die."

Anduin felt a mix of anger and compassion move him and Anduin was enraged at the thought that someone, some omega, had dared to manipulate Khadgar into bonding with him. 

"I'm so sorry," Anduin whispered. "He lied to you."

The confusion in Khadgar's eyes cleared to let in the shock of betrayal. Tears gathered in his eyes and started to fall on his cheeks. Anduin wanted to lean forward and kiss them away but he held himself back. He had no idea how Khadgar would react to a sudden touch.

"The only thing the rut requires is that you mate - that you do what is necessary to produce offspring. All that's needed is to trick your body into thinking you've done just that."

Khadgar closed his eyes tightly. It was a lot to process and Anduin gave him the time to. Eventually Khadgar let out a shaky sigh.

"How do we do this then?" Khadgar asked, voice tight and tiny.

Anduin nodded and explained in the most neutral voice he could, as if he was giving a lecture, rather than about to have sex with a near stranger. "Well, bonding happens when you knot. If you're able to control yourself, you can pull away right before it happens… But the easiest and safest way is if the omega is the one to take the alpha."

Khadgar's mouth gaped open - Anduin focused on the thread of saliva that stretched between his lips, tentalizing. He forced himself to look back at Khadgar's eyes. This was an important conversation they needed to have. He couldn't let himself be distracted so easily.

"Would… Would that be alright with you?"

Khadgar bit his lip.

"Yes," he nodded.

Ignoring the sudden elation in his heart, Anduin smiled encouragingly. Slowly, he raised his hand, giving Khadgar time to pull away if he wanted to. When he let him brush the hair away from his brow, Anduin leaned in to land a soft kiss. Khadgar pressed into the touch. The last of his resistance fell away as he relaxed. He stared at him, the black pupils eclipsing the brown of his irises, full of the trust he felt towards Anduin. It hit him straight in the chest and he felt like he couldn't breathe. He was embracing the young man before he realized he wanted to. Khadgar made a choked surprised sound but accepted the hug, burying his nose once more in Anduin's scent. 

Their lips sought each other and brushed. It felt like lightning - it felt like falling. They stumbled into the mattress, hands and lips finally free to explore now that their minds had been made up. It all was incredibly easy. It was a dance they both knew by heart before they'd even begun the first steps. Fitting his body to Khadgar's felt like pieces falling into place.

Afterwards, they lied in bed, staring at the ceiling, the silence only disturbed by their heavy breathing. Anduin felt sated beyond measure. He couldn't remember a time he had felt so at peace with who - what he was. For the first time, it seemed as if the wolf was in harmony with the man. He could feel Khadgar next to him, hear every one of his breaths. Without needing to think about it, he breathed at the same pace as if they were one giant lung sustaining them both.

Now that the hormones had relented, all Anduin could smell was the blood drying on Khadgar's leg. They had not been careful enough and the wound had reopened, Khadgar hissing in pain and the sharp smell suddenly overtaking the small space. Anduin allowed himself a few minutes of recuperating before he stood up and went to find a cloth. He also looked through the cupboards and found some spare clothing. It was meant to fit him if he ever transformed and lost his clothes so they would be a bit too big on Khadgar, but it was better than nothing.

He went back to Khadgar, who observed him like a guard dog, huddled underneath the blankets.

"Come on," Anduin prompted him to reveal his wounded leg.

In silence, he cleaned and wrapped the wound. He wished he had some of Taria's salve to help the wound heal. After that, he handed Khadgar the clothes. He accepted them quietly and set them besides the bed. The look in his eyes as he looked back was beckoning and Anduin let a smile stretch on his face. He leaned in and they kissed leisurely, taking their time as they tasted each other's lips.

Anduin's heat had been taken care of, he was sure of that. Already he could feel the next stage starting, preparing him both physically and mentally for taking care of someone's pregnancy - his own or his mate, despite the fact that was impossible. In the absence of the responding hormones, he would naturally go back to his neutral state, and so until the next heat. Khadgar, perhaps, would need more time and a bit more help in order to sate his rut. That would wait. For now, Anduin let himself flop down on the mattress and stretched lazely, humming in satisfaction.

Khadgar obeyed his instincts, shifting on his side so he could curl around him, nose burying in his hair, soft fingers grasping at his skin, legs tangling. Anduin was surrounded by his heat and his sweetened scent - a great sense of calm filled him.

In this instant, it almost felt as if everything would be alright.

It was typical, then, that this was the moment Khadgar decided to speak up.

"Why do you stay?" he mumbled.

Anduin stopped breathing. The cabin, which until this moment, seemed to have expanded with every one of their shared moans, now felt as if it tightened around him like a hand around his throat. Khadgar must have felt his body tense because he pulled away, propping himself up on one hand so as to look down at him. Eyebrows furrowed, he stared at him and Anduin felt pinned to the floor.

"Why not get away? from all of it? The hunting, the hiding…"

Khadgar's words echoed eerily in Anduin's head. It wasn't as if he had never thought them himself. He had often, actually, thought about where he would go, how he would go. It was all wistful thinking, however. Never would he abandon his sister here… and never would he ask her to leave with him.

"I can't," Anduin whispered. He couldn't try to speak louder: he was sure his voice would break.

"Why?" Khadgar pressed.

"It doesn't matter why. I can't, that's all. Besides," he sighed, and looked away from Khadgar, into the smoldering ashes of the fire they had let die hours ago. "Where would I go?"

He heard Khadgar wet his lips: it sent a thrill through his body as he remembered all that this mouth had done to him tonight. He closed his eyes and banished the blissful memories. Khadgar shifted, bringing his knees to his chin, curling tightly into himself, like a child.

"There is a place," Khadgar said, quietly, as if anyone but Anduin could hear the secret he was about to reveal. "Across the sea. They say we can live freely over there. I've only heard whispers but… Anyone who's gone looking for it has never come back. Surely that must mean something, right?"

Anduin felt his heart swell with warmth at Khadgar's hopefulness at the same time as his stomach emptied. How innocent Khadgar sounded. How naïve.

"It might mean they're all dead," he said, harshly. He regretted the words as soon as they were uttered but he bit his tongue to stop himself from apologizing.

He had heard the rumors too: nearly every werewolf he had met spoke of this place in whispers, with wide eyes filled with wonder and hope beyond hopelessness. It was a nice dream but that was all it was. Anduin couldn't afford to believe in it. He wouldn't pretend otherwise for Khadgar's sake. Even though Khadgar would be gone in the morning and they would never meet again, Anduin felt a physical incapability to lie to him.

"Thanks," Khadgar responded, all dry wit and heatless anger. "Really encouraging."

Anduin held back a sigh and turned so he lied on his back. He gazed at Khadgar: he could only see the barest details of his face in the warm glow of the embers.

"There's no telling this place exists."

"What if it doesn't?" Khadgar said with more heat than Anduin expected. "Does that mean I should stop searching? Lie down on the ground and wait for death to find me?"

Anduin frowned. "Is that what you think I'm doing?"

"I think you're a coward," Khadgar hissed, "who's admitted to hunting werewolves in order to save his own skin."

The knife pierced through Anduin's flank as sharply and painfully as Khadgar had intended it to - sharper, even, as Anduin's thoughts took control of it and twisted it even deeper, reminding him of all those he had failed. Those he had given up on trying to help, preferring to stay safely locked inside his house or the cabin. Those he had stared right in the eyes as hunters surrounded them and put them down. Those he had tracked down and aimed his pistol at, only to have his arm tremble at the last second, the shot going wide. He had never shot one - had never been able to. At first, when his own hatred towards werewolves had brought him to unspeakable violence against himself, he had seen it as a personal failure that he wasn't able to direct that violence towards others. Eventually, he had come to accept his situation. He tried to help whenever he could, he did, but… was it ever enough? Would he ever be cleared of all the blood he'd shed?

Feeling suddenly oppressed in the small room, he stood up and quickly slipped his clothes on. Before Khadgar could stop him, he hurried to the door.

"I'm going for a walk," he announced.

"Wait, hold up, what if the hunters-" he heard Khadgar shout before the door closed behind him.

Anduin didn't care. His boots scrunched on the snow. Even the spots still bare were frozen, making walking a challenge not to slip and fall. He headed for the leaf-covered forest floor. He heard Khadgar following him outside and it took a lot for him not to turn and snap at him to stay inside. He shouldn't even be moving: his wound was still healing. But, though he knew little about the man, he knew he would be too stubborn to obey him. 

They walked in silence. The night was getting darker and darker but it was not an issue: the stars and moon gave more than enough light for their wolf eyes to adjust. Now they were sated, the moon greeted them with barely just a whisper to remind you of its power over them. No longer did it beckon the wolf out, instead it felt like a phantom embrace, making Anduin shiver.

They reached a small pond in the woods. The stars reflected into it: it looked like a thousands little moons floating on the surface. Anduin smiled, memories from a better time rushing to his mind. For a second he saw himself as a young man, having his first kiss by the moonlight. A time when he could be out at night without worry, that he didn't care which phase of the moon it was. The memories turned sour and he turned sharply.

"Come on," he said, "let's get back."

"Wait," Khadgar pleaded. "Just a minute more."

He was looking at the sky, eyes wide. Anduin figured this might be the first time since he had been turned that he could even be out at night. Maybe his curse had been so strong that he had been turned every single full moon since he had been turned, the wolf taking over for the three days that the moon was at its most powerful. Even outside of the full moon, being outside at night was dangerous. You never knew how the wolf would react until you learned to control it.

Khadgar looked mesmerized. His eyes shone unnaturally in the night, betraying his true nature. It unlocked something in Anduin's chest. Anduin _ached_. He stumbled under the force of the feeling. It wasn't his heat currently begging him to draw nearer to the alpha. It was a desire to be held, to be protected, to be wrapped in arms he knew were warm and welcoming - arms that waited only for him to approach. It was something much more dangerous. For a second, all Anduin could feel was _want_ : pure, all-encompassing, almost irresistable. What started as a rumble quickly turned into a groan. He managed to disguise it as pain and Khadgar turned towards him, lightning-quick, in concern.

He laid a hand on Anduin's arm and Anduin shrugged him away. Hurt flashed across Khadgar's face but Anduin could not care less. He would not let himself show weakness: could not let Khadgar know of the cold and the loneliness. He would never let him go - he would never leave him behind.

"We have to go back," he said roughly.

This time, Khadgar followed without a word. As they walked, snow began to fall again, covering their footprints. By the time they had reached the cabin, all traces that they had walked through the forest had disappeared. Anduin glanced back before he went inside and his heart constricted painfully. Tomorrow Khadgar would go back on the road, headed to the dream land they had both heard so much about. Anduin would watch him go and ignore the ache to follow.

Khadgar had immediately and without a word gone back underneath the covers. He was shivering slightly. Anduin took the time to rekindle the fire before joining him on the mattress. He hoped he hadn't scared Khadgar away - he hoped he wouldn't try and ask questions. Khadgar only hesitated for a second before he pressed himself against him, warm and insisting.

"Please," he whispered while trailing open-mouthed kisses up his neck.

Anduin sighed in relief and pleasure and took him in his arms. As they undressed each other, he couldn't help but gaze at Khadgar, hoping the haze of his hormones would distract him enough not to notice the sheer wonder in Anduin's eyes. Tomorrow was hours away - tonight, Anduin would not hold back.


End file.
